Shadow Hunters by Christie Golden Page B

foil that covered the dessert compartment. Hopeful despite everything, Jake watched with interest.
    The first warning they had was the horrible tearing sound of trees crashing down and the now-familiar, blood-freezing chittering.
    Zerg.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    IN ONE SWIFT MOVEMENT, ROSEMARY SPRANG for the gun and dove out of the shelter. Jake went for the small box of grenades and followed. He was not a second too soon, for the moment he was clear of the shelter something large and snakelike crashed down on it with a large crack: the tail of a hydralisk, which now lifted its monstrous, cobralike head and reared back, poised to strike.
    Without conscious thought, Jake drew his arm back and tossed a grenade at it. It was a lucky throw and went right down the creature’s open gullet. A heartbeat later, Jake was showered by small bits of pulpy, reeking flesh.
    He heard Rosemary shouting curses and the rapid fire of the gun and turned again to see her mowing down two zerglings. They screamed as their limbs flailed, not halting their approach until their lives were completely and thoroughly ended. Done with those two, Rosemary looked around, searching for the next wave of zerg. Jake could hear chittering, in the distance now, but coming closer.
    There were too many of them.
    He stared at Rosemary, his eyes wide with horror, grief, and guilt. Their gazes locked for a second, then she flashed a grin and turned to the sounds of their approaching doom.
    Jake reached for Zamara, wondering if she could somehow pull another rabbit of her protoss hat, but she was silent inside him.
    Zamara?
    The sound of death came closer, but Zamara was not speaking to him. Somehow he thought she’d have last words or something, but apparently—
    The by now too-familiar clacking, buzzing, angry insectlike sounds could still be heard, but the noises were now joined by a sound Jake had never heard before and could not put a name to. Groping for similarities, to make the unknown known and less horrific, Jake’s mind incongruously went back to his childhood. When he was a kid, he used to love going to summer festivals on his homeworld of Tarsonis. They would often end with fireworks displays. Jake’s mother always winced and covered her ears, but Jake, his little sister Kirsten, and their dad loved the high-pitched shriek of the fireworks racing up to the skies before exploding with a bone-shaking boom rather too much like that of the grenade Rosemary had just lobbed. The sounds outside sounded like those fireworks.
    Now that odd screaming noise was joined by squeals and shrieks of zerg in torment. Confused, Jake risked a glance at Rosemary. She stood beside him, rifle at the ready. Every part of her petite, perfectly formed body was taut, frozen, except for her chest, which moved up and down rapidly as she drew in air, and the vein that beat wildly in her throat.
    There was a sudden silence.
    Jake didn’t dare speak.
    The moments ticked on.
    Zamara was abruptly there, as if she had returned home to his mind after stepping outside. And she’d brought company.
    Over a dozen voices suddenly began speaking in his head. They overlapped and echoed and their feelings caressed and assaulted him both. Jake cried out, dropping to his knees and letting the grenades spill to the earth, clutching his head as pain blossomed brightly. At once, Zamara put up a buffer between him and the—
    “Protoss,” Jake gasped. “There are still protoss left here!”
    Rosemary lowered the rifle. Relief and irritation were both plain on her beautiful face. “Why didn’t Zamara say anything?”
    After that one excruciating moment, the pain began to ebb. Jake sat up cautiously and looked at the pile of dead zerg. His stomach roiled and this time he wasn’t able to stop it. He got to his hands and knees and began to vomit, the contents of his stomach merging with the foul purplish-black blood and flesh of the dead zerg.He sat down, wiped his hand across his mouth, and stared up into